Year of the Spark: January 1
by Sparky Army
Summary: Every night, they meet in his dreams. The first of a year's worth of Sparky stories!


_We, the Sparky Army, decree 2008 to be the Year of the Spark. We pledge to post a new sparky story or chapter of a sparky story every day from January 1, 2008 to December 31, 2008. Though the Powers the Be have removed Elizabeth Weir from the regular cast of __Stargate Atlantis__, we feel that she remains an integral part of the show, and that the relationship between her and John Sheppard is too obvious to be ignored. We hope that you, and anyone might happen to read these works, agree. _

_And if that isn't official enough for you, we don't know what is. Seriously, guys, we're just trying to have some fun--and show TPTB that Sparky is the way to go. So sit back and enjoy the 366 stories coming your way!_

Note from the author (Myriad): I'm thrilled to be kicking of YotS with the first of what I hope will be a series of one-shots inspired by the album_One X_ by Three Day's Grace (my snow-shoveling music for this winter; we got nearly three feet in December alone). This particular one goes well with "Never Too Late," so if you have access to that song, I encourage you to play it while you read this. Enjoy!

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**Reality (I)**  
_By Myriad (Myriadragon)_

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"Please tell me there's wine."

John said nothing as he watched Elizabeth lower herself onto the couch and pres her hands over her eyes. She sighed, rubbed the back of her neck, then sat up again and reached for the bottle of white that had appeared on the coffee table.

"Do you want any?" she asked, pouring the wine into the two glasses that had appeared with the bottle.

"Are you real?"

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow as she settled back into the corner of the couch. "We've been doing this for three months, John."

"That doesn't answer my question."

She took a sip, contemplated what remained in the glass. "What do you think?"

"You can't answer a question with a question," John protested.

She smiled up at him, the little half-suppressed grin his Liz had worn so often. "I didn't, exactly." Elizabeth patted the couch beside her. "Sit. Drink your wine. We'll talk."

"Will you answer my question?"

"Maybe."

John sighed and threw himself onto the couch beside her. "I wish this was a beer," he said as he picked up his glass. "Or something stronger."

"No you don't," Elizabeth said amicably. "It's your dream. If you wanted it to be something else, it would be."

"If it's my dream, how come everything you want shows up as soon as you mention it?" he challenged, testing the wine, and discovering that no, he didn't actually want a beer.

"You like making me happy," she explained. He raised an eyebrow, and she added, "I miss Sedge."

The yellow lab wriggled its way between the table and the couch and stuck its nose into Liz's hip. She laughed and reached out to scratch Sedge's ears. "See?"

John scowled. "So if you wanted a life-sized statue of George Clooney, my subconscious would provide it?"

"Assuming your pride didn't get in the way, yes," Elizabeth laughed. "All I want right now is to share a bottle of wine with my dog and my man, though, so I think we're set for the time being."

"I'm not your man."

Elizabeth frowned slightly. "No," she agreed. She took another sip of wine.

"Look, I didn't mean—"

"It's fine, John. How's Teyla? Is everything going all right with the baby?"

He sighed. "I'm still not sure I should have told you about that."

"It's hardly a state secret. You haven't even told me who the father is."

"But if you _are_ real," John insisted, "if you're really Elizabeth, how do you know you aren't just pumping me for information to give to the Replicators?"

"If I'm really, I don't want to give anything to the Replicators," she returned, voice sharp. "Have I ever asked you anything that could help them in any way?"

"How do I know you can't just take whatever you want without needing to ask me?"

"John—" she stopped, shook her head. "I should stop doing this." She set her glass on the table and stood.

"Elizabeth—"

"I lost _everything_, John," she exploded. "Atlantis was my life, and I lost it. I lost my job and my people and my friends and—and you, whatever we were to each other. I'm cut off from everything I love, fighting for my life and my sanity, and I'm all alone. So I wait until you're asleep and I slip in and I ask you about Teyla's baby. I don't ask about Rodney's research, I don't ask who they've hired to replace me, or how everyone's settling in on the new world. I haven't even asked if Lorne recovered from his pneumonia because I won't be able to hold them off forever, and when they do get through, I don't want to give them _anything_ that could help them hurt you." There were tears in her eyes now, and she turned away to hide them.

John set his glass on the table beside hers. "I'm sorry."

She turned back, wiping away the tears. "Well," she said, taking a shaking breath. "I shouldn't be doing this anyway. I've been holding them off for months, but it's only a matter of time before…"

He stood as well, raised a hand as if to touch her, but let it drop to his side again. "I don't want you to go," he said, surprising them both with his sudden honesty. "I mean—I know you have to. But anytime you think it's safe, if you wanted to—I could probably find another bottle of wine," he offered, relieved when she smiled.

"I don't know what I'll do without you," Elizabeth said, shaking her head. Her smile faded. "I will try, but—they get closer every day, and I'm so tired of dancing around them. I don't know how much longer I'll even be me."

There was nothing he could say to that, nothing either of them could say. "I could—we could find you," he offered, knowing very well that they couldn't. But he added, "If you could find some way to give us a signal—do you know where you are?"

Elizabeth's smile was pained. "Here, there, everywhere—John, you know you can't. The odds against you would be inconceivable, even if you did manage to find me, and with the potential security risk of you falling into their hands? The mission would never be approved. I wouldn't approve it. Atlantis needs you."

He exhaled heavily. "I know."

She smiled at him again and slid her arms around him, pressing her lips to his cheek. "Thank you," she said as his arms rose to return his embrace. "Thank you for offering, even though you know you can't. Thank you for not giving up all hope, even though there isn't any left. Thank you for keeping me sane a little while longer. Thank you."

She pulled back, but John's hands slid to her hips, holding her in place. "Try. If there's any way you can tell us where you are—try. We may not be able to do anything, but if we can—" He surprised them both by kissing her quickly. "I'm not ready to lose you."

Elizabeth was crying again, but she forced another smile and stepped back. "Good night, John."

She hadn't said goodbye. "Good night, Elizabeth."

And she was gone.


End file.
